Last night my mom Cathy went to a meeting for her neighborhood, Queen Anne in Seattle. I had to stay home in my crate but when she came back, I could tell she had been talking to my good pal Lindsay, the Regrade Park Dog Steward.
The meeting was about changes to Kinnear Park, a magnificent natural park that’s a short walk from where we live. My mom loves the views of the Sound but I like the smells of the squirrels. The only problem is, I am not allowed to run around loose and chase those wonderful squirrels. My mom says there’s a movement afoot to install a dog park and I, for one, can’t wait.
Our small group was led by an architect from Vancouver, BC. He said, “In Vancouver, dogs don’t have separate parks. They can run loose on the trails for certain times of the day.”
My mom was puzzled. “Don’t the dogs escape?” she asked. I wasn’t there but I can just imagine.
“Canadians train their dogs,” the man said. “They don’t run away.”
Oops. My mom has been eying me ever since she came home. Training? I’m the ultimate escape artist. Good thing I wasn’t adopted by a Canadian family.
And what have we here? It looks like a very small, very spoiled dog. A pug, to be exact.
Lindsay is the steward of the Regrade Dog Park. She’s a dog lover and an awesome Steward. Everybody behaves when Lindsay’s in the park, even me.
Here’s where I am driving my mom completely nuts. When I get bored, I wander around, looking for something to nibble on. Usually it’s something unmentionable.
Here I am in Regrade Dog Park, along with a bunch of other dogs. As you can see, we are all negotiating for treats. I’m more enthusiastic than anyone else.
A couple of weeks ago it was freezing cold when we went to the dog park. As usual, I went naked. My mom doesn’t believe in coats for dogs.
My mom just got her hair cut. She was so tired of fussing with the sides and dealing with frizz. So she marched into her hair stylist and said, “Cut it off! Cut it all off!”